


Spaces Between Us

by insp (said)



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Pining, Unrequited Crush, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-28
Updated: 2017-08-04
Packaged: 2018-11-20 15:09:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 13,037
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11337987
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/said/pseuds/insp
Summary: -This wasn’t supposed to be what love felt like. Love was supposed to feel like oranges and ice cream on beach sides and warm skin and big hands. 2AM love and smoking on street corners while the other man stood upwind, eating a slice of dodgy pizza. It was supposed to taste like student debt and ordering takeout on the sofas in the living room. Like dancing on that floor. Like starry nights and crackers.The kind of love Louis seemed to be destined for tasted like dirty kitchen tiles, vomit, and unrequited longing.-It's been months since Louis moved out. Relationships hang by strings. Memories and mistakes scatter themselves like jigsaw. Louis sees his picture, but Harry's still trying to pick up the pieces.Featuring bucketloads of miscommunication, angst, and unhealthy reminiscing.





	1. Licking Tiles

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This work is based off a prompt to try to use a bunch of random objects in the story: The objects I had to incorporate into this one included: Kittens, a half-eaten pizza, telepathy, a radio call-in contest, a sleeve of saltine crackers, magic, a six pack of beer, and existential angst. Hope you enjoy :)

Harry’s white t-shirt rode up his back as he jumped to the beat of the music, his shoulder length brown curls bouncing from side to side. HIs muscles had to be aching by now - he’d been at it for an hour or so. Tattoos leaked from under his sleeves, stretching over his sweat-stained skin, aching, tantalizing.

Harry was nothing short of a vision. He executed every motion like a deliberate, crashing blow, yet gentle enough to cascade across like a hot wave in July. He could hold a feather in his hands and crush it to dust or caress it back to life.

 

Look at him. Waxing poetic about some uncoordinated fucker. It’s so easy to romanticize a sweating kitchen, gross beer, and a mash of tangled, dancing people when you’re drunk.

Louis was drunk.

It was time to leave the party.

“Hey, where’re you going?” demanded Niall as he made to get up.

“Home,” Louis said with annoyance.

“How’re you going to drive?” Niall yawned, scratching his stomach. “Aren’t you going to crash?”

“I can’t,” he said, giving Niall a kick in the shin.

Niall’s eyes widened and he not-so-discreetly snuck a glance over at the dancing crowd, which consisted of about five people who were all tripping over each other without finesse. Watching from the outside for the first time, Louis wanted to snort at how stupid they all looked. He wanted in. 

Louis couldn’t stand to look at it anymore. 

“Oh, right.” Niall took another swing from his beer.

“Liam’s going to drive me home,” Louis proclaimed.

“You sure?” Niall called out after him. Louis shrugged and walked off.

He finally found Liam in the kitchen, sat on the ground and rubbing his nose. “Take me home,” he demanded, sliding in next to the muscular man on the cold tiles.

“Louis, no,” Liam slurred, tipping his beer towards the smaller man. “Nope. We aren’t leaving.”

“Take me home, pretty please?”

“Body shots! Body shots! Body shots!” Liam said, his head tipping to the side. “Louis! Come to shots with me.”

Louis shook his head. “You’re more pissed than I am, you little shit. What happened to being party mum?” HIs annoyance with Liam was building. He needed to go home. He needed to get out of here. Being in this apartment was driving him crazy. He hadn’t meant to come. He was supposed to get a few drinks, leave.

“ _ Fuck  _ that,” Liam said. “C’mon, Lou. It’s a  _ party.  _ Come get drunk with me. Come on!” He stood up with difficulty and pulled Louis along with him. “Free alcohol! Let’s fucking use it!”

Well, Liam had been the only person Louis could think to drive him home. Intoxicated Louis was having trouble declining that offer. “Fine. Just a little.”

“When did  _ you _ become the responsibl-er one? You  _ love _ drinking,” Liam stumbled his way to the kitchen island, where bottles and beer cans were scattered.

“Good question,”Louis answered as he down the liquid from the glass that Liam handed him. “I’m going to regret this,” he mentioned, lining up some new and used shot glasses along the counter and grabbing the bottle from Liam. “GIve me that, you’re spilling everywhere.”

“Am not,” said Liam,” licking tequila off his fingers.

They ended up on the floor, passing a bottle between them. A half eaten pizza sat in Louis’ lap.

“I dare you to lick the floor,” said Louis.

“Ew! Why do you give me so many gross ones?”

“Because I love you.”

Liam put his head to the tile and gave it a kitten lick.

“That’s  _ nothing,” _ Louis chastised. “Look at this.” He knelt to the floor and swept his whole tongue across one tile. “Ugh, that tastes cold.”

“You’re an idiot,” Liam said. “You’re stupid.

Heavy bass pumped up and down in the background.

“ _ You’re _ stupid.”

“You’re drunk,” Liam said.

“I dare you to kiss that girl over there,” Louis said, looking up at a pretty brown-haired girl and ignoring the churning in his stomach. Half a bottle of tequila and five slices of pizza didn’t seem to be mixing well.

Liam blushed. “I can’t kiss that girl.”

“Kiss the fucking girl,” Louis said, shoving at Liam “I know you want to.”

“Don’t take your sexual frustrations out on me,” Liam said, staggering up anyway. Louis laughed, but mid-laugh, he realized something.

“Fuck,” he said, covering his mouth and scrambling to his feet. The combined alcohol and food seemed to be bubbling back up, and he began to shake, trying not to let the vomit come.  _ Damnit. _ It had been so long since he’d done something amatuer like throw up.

“You OK, Lou?” Liam said, his thick eyebrows furrowing.

Louis nodded, and ran to the bathroom.

He shooed out the couple snogging with some frantic hand gestures and fell to his knees above the toilet, retching. The first wave came.

Louis was so, so pathetic. It was pathetic how this was how he coped. He’d  _ meant _ to not get shitfaced at this party. It had been his  _ resolution. _ And yet? Look at him. Pathetic. 

Louis realized where he was with a pang. It was pathetic how well he knew this house. It was pathetic how many times his arse had touched this toilet seat, his ignorant arse that had yet to come to some annoyingly impactful revelations.

It had been months, and yet he found himself back in this toilet, throwing up, because  _ that’s _ just how well he coped with his problems. He was young and dumb and he didn’t deserve this.

He threw up again and leaned his head on the toilet seat with complete lack of regard for germs, heaving and sighing. His ribs ached.

This wasn’t supposed to be what love felt like. Love was supposed to feel like oranges and ice cream on beach sides and warm skin and big hands. 2AM love and smoking on street corners while the other man stood upwind, eating a slice of dodgy pizza. It was supposed to taste like student debt and ordering takeout on the sofas in the living room. Like dancing on that floor. Like starry nights and crackers.

The kind of love Louis seemed to be destined for tasted like dirty kitchen tiles, vomit, and unrequited longing.

“Louis?”

Louis almost burst into tears. Wrong voice, wrong time. Not now.

“Louis, are you OK?”

Louis didn’t answer.

“Niall said you went home.”

A hand was on his back. Louis could feel that the fingers bore metal bands.

“Do you need a ride?”

Louis spoke for the first time. “But you’re drunk.”

“No.” Harry stroked the hair at the base of Louis’ neck, and Louis squeezed his eyes shut. “Come on, I’ll take you home.”

“You can’t - you can’t do that,” Louis mumbled. His mouth tasted like utter shit.

“Lou,” Harry said in the softest possible voice.

Louis threw up again.

“I’m taking you home.”   
“How are you supposed to do that?” Louis demanded through the taste in his mouth.

“...Driving?” Harry suggested.

Louis shook his head. Wrong. Driving him anywhere wouldn’t take him home.

“Come on. Come on, get up.” Harry began pulling Louis to his feet. “I got you.”

Louis felt like rubber, leaning his body weight on Harry and sighing. “I’m sorry.”

“What?” Harry said. “For what?”

Louis shook his head.

 

“If you need to throw up, do it in the other direction,” Harry joked as he started the engine.

Louis was silent. Looking uncomfortable, Harry turned his attention back to the road.

A sign passed by.

“Why aren’t you drunk?” Louis asked.

“Who else is supposed to keep an eye on you?” Harry’s voice was low, an attempt at humor. The joke fell flat.

It was a twenty-minute drive from the old apartment to the one Louis shared with Niall and Liam. Twenty minutes too long.

Louis tired to pass the time by counting lampposts. The space between them was overwhelming.

“Why have things...been so weird lately?” said Harry.

Louis looked up. “What the fuck kind of question is that?” he said defensively.

Harry stared straight ahead. “Please don’t fight with me, Louis,”

“You didn’t have to drive me home,” Louis said.

“I had to.”

Louis let the conversation end. Harry however, seemed interested in keeping it up.

“What happened, Louis?”

“Harry, I’m tired.”

“I just want to know,” Harry said. He paused. “Did I do something?”

Minutes dragged themselves along.

Louis feigned sleep.

“You don’t talk to me anymore,” Harry said. He was offering his words to the empty space between them. “You don’t look at me anymore.”

Louis didn’t twitch a muscle.

The charade kept up until they pulled in front of Louis’ building. Harry shook him lightly. “Lou,” he whispered. “Wake up.”

Louis blinked awake, dusted with brown curls, Harry’s face was inches from his. It felt like a bullet to the chest. 

_ Two years ago _

Harry’s face was inches from his.

“Wake up, Haz!”

Harry blinked awake. His hair was short, and his body was more slight. He broke into a grin when he saw Louis above him, shaking him awake. “Come look at the stars.”

They clambered through the sunroof, one after another, and lay down side by side atop the van, staring into the sky.

“I’ve never seen anything beautiful like this,” Harry whispered.

“I think your curls could them them a run for their money,” Louis said back. Harry laughed.

“Let me get a blanket,” the younger boy said, disappearing down into the car again.

When he resurfaced, he tucked the blanket around Louis’ toes and snuggled down with him. Then he shook a sleeve of crackers in Louis’ face. “I have crackers,” he said.

“You’re a lifesaver,” Louis whispered.

They lay together for a while, Louis sneaking glances at Harry’s mesmerized face.

“This is the best road trip ever,” Harry declared.

“It would be, if we’d brought enough fucking food. And money,” said Louis.

“We have crackers.”

Louis laughed. “I love those crackers,” he said. “Those crackers literally saved me from starvation this trip. I want to be buried with these crackers. I love these crackers.”

“When I propose, I’m not buying her a ring. I’ll give her crackers.” Harry giggled.

“I’ll confess my undying love to my future husband with crackers,” Louis said.

“Let’s start a cracker cult,” Harry said.

Louis snorted.

“Shh!” Harry said urgently, slapping a hand over Louis’ mouth. “You’ll wake the stars.”

Louis stared up at the Harry-shaped blob in the darkness, grinning. “I can’t wake the stars.”

“You’re a star,” said Harry.

“You’re a cracker.”

Harry punched him playfully. “You’re an idiot.”

Just as Louis began to doze off again, Harry curled up against his side, he felt the other boy speak. “I’m going to ask Abigail out.”

“You are?” Louis said, trying not to let disappointment seep into his voice.

“Yeah.” Harry paused. “What do you think? You like her, right?”

Louis hummed. “She’s nice.”

“Yeah. I like her.”

“Not as much as you like me though, right?” Louis turned and faced Harry.

“Never,” Harry promised.

A sleeve of crackers lay between them.


	2. Spaces

“I’ll take you upstairs.” Present Harry’s voice, deeper and more worn than it used to be, shocked Louis back to where he was.

“No, I’ll be fine,” Louis tried to say, but nothing came out.

Harry opened the passenger side door for him and helped him out. They used to come here like this all the time, but usually both of them were shitfaced, and in a taxi, back when the building was just “Liam and Niall’s.”

The apartment was a mess, as always, and even more so since Louis moved in. At first he’d tried to be somewhat neat and inconspicuous, because he knew he was a sort of intruder on Liam and Niall’s home, but he had failed, and very much so. Halfway up the stairs, Louis had buckled, so, to his embarrassment, he was pulled tightly to Harry’s side for support.

“So...Where do you sleep?”

It occurred to Louis that this was the first time Harry was seeing the apartment since the move.

“I just. On the couch.”

“Oh.”

He was deposited gently on the cushions and felt a few crisps crunch under him. He made a face.

“That can’t be comfortable,” Harry said, touching the leg of Louis’ tight jeans. “You sure you want to sleep in them?”

“I don’t give a fuck,” Louis said.

Harry shrugged and walked over to the kitchen to fill up a glass of water. “Hey, have this.”

Louis accepted it, but from his horizontal position, didn’t drink. The inside of his mouth still tasted like shit.

Harry settled himself on the floor next to Louis’ feet. The familiar sound of the rise and fall of Harry’s breath fills the background.

“You don’t have to stay,” Louis whispered.

“I want to.”

“You must be exhausted. From all that dancing. Go home, seriously.” He was finding it harder and harder to string sentences together.

“What’s wrong, Louis?”

“Nothing. I’m going going to feel like death in the morning.”  _ Because you’re here, _ was the part he didn’t add.

“I don’t know if you’re going to remember this in the morning,” Harry said, playing with the rings on his finger, “but Louis. You never had to move out.”

Louis wanted to plug his ears. It wasn’t time to have this conversation. He was never going to be ready for this conversation.

“We would have made it work. The three of us. There’s enough space. And she likes you, Lou. You two would hit it off, I promise, if you just...gave her a chance. I don’t understand why you had to go. Besides,” he said, smiling a little, “We wouldn’t have been too loud. For your sake.”

It a joke that will never be funny. Louis buried his face in a cushion.

“I had to,” he said, voice shaking. “You deserve some space.”

“Not from you,” Harry responded.

“Maybe  _ I _ deserve some space,” Louis snapped. He couldn’t see Harry’s expression, but he could sense it falling because he couldn’t hear Harry breathing anymore.

When he spoke again, Harry sounded breathless. “I’ll just go,” and Louis instantly filled with guilt. It’s better this way, he told himself. Distance. It makes everything hurt less.

Footsteps faded away, then stopped.

“You call this space, Louis?” said Harry, an edge to his voice. The door swung open, then shut.

 

Louis’ silent tears soaked the cushion.

 

***

It had started when Harry made a proposal.

“Nicole and I were thinking of living together,” he said one night, bringing a slice of pizza to his lips.

Louis dropped his glass. It shattered on the kitchen tile. “Fuck, I’ll get that,” He said, his voice shaking. Harry whistled. “That was dramatic.”

Louis threw on a pair of slippers in the closet and reached for the broom. When he grasped the handle, he took a moment.

Harry was asking Nicole to move in. With them. Which meant more things than Louis wanted to consider right now.

Fuck.

Schooling his expression into one of nonchalance, he went back to the kitchen to sweep up the mess. “Sorry, Haz.”

“Basically, what we were thinking is that Nicole could maybe move in, you know? She still lives at her mum’s place, and we could move your bed, I’d sort everything out myself. But obviously, I need to know what you think first, because you’re my roommate and all.”

 

“...And I told him I thought it was a great idea.” Louis finished, lighting his fifth cigarette. He’d been chaining.

Niall gave him a long look. “You’re dumb as fuck, mate.”

“I know, I know.”

“You should have said no. No way.  _ I _ would have said no. How can three people live in that tiny-ass place?”

“That’s why I told him I’d move out.”

Silence.

“ _ WHAT?” _

Louis drained the life from the cigarette and stubbed it out on the countertop. “Shut up.”

“Where are you going to fucking live?”

“I don’t know, Niall.”

“Fuck.” Niall ran a hand through his bleached-blond hair and dragged it back down his face. “ _ Fuck!” _ He leaned back in his chair.

“You and Harry,” he said, putting his forehead in his hands, “Will be the death of me.”

Louis pinched the bridge of his nose. “It would never work, Niall.”

Niall sighed and turned to look Louis in the eyes. 

“When are you going to tell your boy you’re in love with him?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so a n g s t y I know, I'll try to lighten it up!!


	3. half empty boxes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kittens, half-empty boxes of pizza, and a six pack of beer.

_ A year ago  _

“I think I’m in love with Harry,” Louis confessed.

Niall took another bite of his burger. “The quality around here has really gone to shit,” he commented, removing a wilted leaf of lettuce from under the patty with disgust.

For a moment, Louis wondered if he’d even said the sentence aloud.

“Niall? Did you hear what I just said?” Louis asked.

“Yeah,” the blond said. “Are you going to eat those?” He reached over for Louis’ chips.

Louis pulled the plate away. “Are you sure you just heard what I said?”

Niall looked offended. “I’m not deaf, mate. Can I have your chips?”

“Niall,” Louis said slowly. This was not how he imagined Niall reacting at all. Niall’s jaw was supposed to drop alongside his burger, which would fall into two halves on the table, scattering crumbs everywhere. He’d stand up and slam his hands on the table, leaning in close to Louis, making a scene in the middle of the packed diner, screaming “ _ Are you fucking kidding me Tommo? It’s been four years!” _ The servers would drop their plates, and the earth would shatter into a trillion pieces. Instead, Louis found himself repeating the sentence again to a man he wasn’t even sure was listening.

“I’m. In love with Harry.”

“No shit,” Niall said, giving up on the chips and returning to his burger.

“What?” Louis said in disbelief. “You knew? Who else knows? I never told anyone!”

Niall finally set down his burger, looking at Louis. “How stupid do you think I am?”

“Am I that obvious?” Louis worried aloud. Fuck, did Liam know? Worse, did Harry know?

Niall smiled. “No, don’t worry. Harry’s just as thick as you are. I’m the only one with any brains around here.”

“But - what -” there are a thousand questions Louis could be asking.  _ Should _ be asking. “How - how did you know?”

“You don’t treat Liam or me the way your treat him.” Niall thought for a moment, chewing his burger. “You don’t treat anyone the way you treat him.”

Louis buried his face in his hands. “Jesus, what if he  _ knows?” _

“He doesn’t know,” Niall said. “Or you would be dating by now. Hell, even married probably,” he joked

“ _ Niall.” _ said Louis.

Niall leaned forward, serious now. “I think you should tell him.”

“What? That I’m in love with him? What if he doesn’t feel the same? What if he moves out? What if he stops -”

“Lou, I say this with love, but shut the fuck up.”

Louis looked up.

Niall pushed his plate out of the way, which was a huge gesture by Niall standards. Niall valued food more than God, probably.

“Louis, I guarantee you that Harry would not stop being your mate if you told him you were in love with him,” Niall said. “Harry loves you. He  _ loves _ you. You’re so valuable to each other.”

“Yeah, well, Harry loves everyone,” Louis said.

“Did you know that before I asked Liam, I wanted Harry to move in with me?” Niall made careful eye contact with Louis, who squirmed. “He said no, so I asked Liam. Then, a month later, when you asked him, he moved in with you. He loves you, Lou. You’re just both too thick to see it.”

“But -” _He’s not_ in love _with me. We’re just best mates._

“ _ Louis. _ ”

“Niall, he’s not even  _ gay!” _ cried Louis, finally speaking his biggest fear aloud. “He’s only ever dated  _ women! _ Abigail! Carmen! Rose! Women! People with  _ vaginas! _ ”

“But has he ever  _ explicitly, _ listen to me,  _ explicitly _ told you he’s one hundred percent straight?” said Niall.

“Well - but -”

“Listen to me. Tell him. Or you’ll regret it. Promise me, Lou. Promise me you’ll tell him.”

Louis sighed, looking down at his chips. He didn’t feel like eating anymore. “Someday.”

Niall seemed satisfied, stealing a chip from Louis’ plate. “So, how did your dense arse finally figure out you were in love with Harry?”

 

Well.

Louis had fallen in love with a series of  _ things _ first. He’d fallen in love with strange junctures in his life that fell like flakes before he’d pinpointed what the strange things his heart was doing meant.

~  _ 3 years ago ~ _

The first were kittens.

“ _ Are you fucking stupid?” _ Louis yelled from the car. “HARRY! Get the fuck back here!”

The weather was  _ insanity. _ Fuck this. Louis wanted to get home as quickly as possible. “Do you  _ want _ to get hit by lightning?”

Sometimes, Louis had no idea as to what the fuck was going on inside Harry’s brain.

The other man was loping away, fighting through the rain in nothing but a white t-shirt and jeans. His clothes were pasted to his body from the wet, and his curls had attached themselves to the sides of his face. “What the  _ fuck,  _ Harry?”

They were stopped on the side of a highway. They’d just been to visit Louis’ parents, and had been attacked by a sudden storm on the way home. Harry, the driver, had suddenly swerved to the side and jumped out. Louis was understandably shaken.

“Harry! You’re going to get hypothermia, you idiot! And die!” Louis’ throat was becoming raw from the screaming. “And my phone’s dead, so don’t expect me to call 999!”

A few yards away, the brown mop that was Harry’s hair was bending close to the ground, and he seemed to be picking something up. Louis squinted in the rain, but couldn’t make anything else out, except that the object was large. “Oh my God,” Louis said, resting this forehead on the dashboard. “My boy is a lunatic.”

Harry clambered back in, drenched from head to toe, nipples and tattoos clearly imprinted from under his wet shirt, shivering uncontrollably, a cardboard box clutched in his arms.

“You went out there for a  _ box?” _ Louis said hysterically. “A box, Harry? Are you out of your fooking mind?”

Harry was breathing heavily, dripping all over the seats. “Lou. Look.” He opened the box.

Lined along the corner of the box were five shaking balls of fluff.

“Oh my God,” Louis breathed.

“They’re babies.” Harry whispered, stroking a forefinger along one of their backs. Beside the tiny kitten bodies, Harry’s hand looked massive.Louis’ eyes traveled up Harry’s arm to his shoulder, his neck, his face. Harry was staring down at the kittens with a gentle expression, his pink lips slightly parted. They were especially pigmented against the cool paleness of his skin.

“They’re the most beautiful things I’ve ever seen,” said Louis, quiet. Harry looked up at Louis. Louis broke his gaze quickly and looked down at the kittens. Harry smiled, then shuddered. “Fuck, I’m cold.”

“Yeah, because your dumb arse just went out into freezing hell rain to save a box of kittens,” Louis said. Then he began laughing. “Oh my God, your dumb arse just went into freezing fucking rain in a  _ t-shirt _ to save a box of kittens,” he said, slapping the dashboard. “Are you a knight in fucking shining armour or what?”

Harry began laughing, too. “I think it’s safe to say it’s your turn to drive now,”

“Oh bugger off,” Louis said laughing, but traded places anyway.

The woman at the shelter seemed just a bit taken aback when the two men walked in, soaked from head to foot, bearing a box of baby kittens.

In the weeks following, they kept going back to the shelter on their days off to pay the kittens a visit. Because they had rescued them, Harry and Louis had been invited to name them. Louis named the two females Phoebe and Daisy, for his younger twin sisters, and Harry named the three males Bagel, Lox, and Louis. Louis had rolled his eyes as the staff member wrote the names down.

“Look at him,” Harry said, holding up the kitten. Its body was white and had a brown spot over one of its blue eyes. “Baby blue Lou.”

“Shut up,” Louis said, his face heating up.

At the time, they’d both been juggling school and work, so busy that their exchanges were usually limited to brushing hands in the popcorn bowl while watching films after a long day in their puny dorm. But after the cats, every Saturday morning was put aside to go visit them. 

He and Harry would drive up to the shelter together, just the two, grab coffee, and sit for hours together, curled up with the cats.

Kitten Louis had been the first one to go. Then Phoebe.

Eventually, all the cats were adopted away, and the two men had lost their will to go to the shelter. Harry started working Saturdays.

Louis felt a sense of loss. He had fallen in love with the quiet, intimate space that was created when it was just them and a handful of kittens.

He told himself he just missed the cats.

~  _ 1 year, 7 months ago ~ _

The second thing was a half-empty box of pizza.

“Go,” Louis insisted. “I’ll be fine. It’s just paperwork. Boring stuff. I wouldn’t be good company.”

Harry was halfway through shrugging on a leather jacket. “As long as you’re sure,” he said, concern lining his words.”

“ _ Go,” _ said Louis, popping open a can of beer. “You have fun at Nick’s party.”

It was Nick’s birthday “banger” tonight. Obviously, Louis hadn’t been invited, considering the ongoing feud between them. Louis didn’t even know how it had started. Either way, Nick was a gross old man who had a creepy obsession with Harry that Louis was not OK with. Fine, maybe Nick did know Harry first. And made Louis believe that he and Harry were dating for the first three months they knew each other. And maybe Nick and Harry had been  _ the _ iconic best friend duo before Louis came around. But Louis was  _ not _ jealous. Whatsoever. Nothing. Louis was the one who got to share a flat with Harry now, anyway. Take that, Nick. He won.

He was just a  _ little _ peeved that Harry was choosing to spend the night at a wild house party and drinking expensive liquor instead of staying in and doing bills with him while popping cans of cheap beer.  _ Completely _ unfair.

Louis sat up straight, shook off the annoyance, and got to work.

Two minutes later, he was opening a bottle of the most expensive wine in the house (a housewarming gift from Liam, the rich motherfucker) sat on top of the kitchen island, bills long forgotten.

“Fuck you, Nick,” Louis said, toasting the air.

When a knock came on the door two hours later, Louis was having trouble finding the handle. Finally, he got it open. “Oh wow, look who it is,” Louis said, swaying slightly and staring up at Harry’s face. “Hi Curly. Back so soon? Nick not doing it for ya?”

Joy, joy! Harry was home. Louis’ favourite boy was home. Happy day. Louis leaned forward and wrapped his arms tightly around Harry’s middle.

“Oh, Lou,” Harry said, sounding exasperated, but a smile breaking through. He patted Louis’ head. “Why have you been drinking?”

“Because you’re drinking, somewhere else, in another house. I’m joining in! But from here. It’s like I’m bringing the party to myself. And I don’t have to see Nick.” Harry rolled his eyes at that.

“I didn’t want to stay,” Harry said. He held out a box of pizza. “I got this for you.”

“For me?” Louis gasped. He opened it. It was half a pepperoni pizza. “Harry! Hazza! Harold! You shouldn’t have.”

Harry carefully guided Louis back to the couch. “You sit here and eat your pizza. I’ll take care of the bills.”

Drunk Louis’ eyes filled with grateful tears. “You are beautiful, pristine, wonderful, everything I could ask for,” he slurred. “I love you, Harry Edward Styles. Thank you. Bless You.” He ripped a slice from the box and tried to put in in his mouth, but missed.

Harry opened a can of beer. “Wow, thanks, Lou.” A touch of fondness bled through the sarcasm.

“I meanf efry wordf,” Louis managed to say through a mouth of food.

“One attractive lad, you are,” Harry said, watching Louis wipe his greasy fingers on his shirt.

“Why did you leave the party?” asked Louis as Harry dropped down into the spot beside him and began reading over the sheet of paper.

“Same old, same old,” said Harry. “He does the same thing every birthday. How many times a year do I get to stay home and do paperwork while taking care of my drunk mate?”

“We could do this every month, if you like,” Louis suggested hazily. Harry snorted.

Louis removed another slice of pizza from the box and shoved his feet under Harry’s butt, watching the other man furrow his brow in concentration. Harry subconsciously put a hand on Louis’ bar shin and drew circles onto the skin there with his thumb.

Louis swallowed his bite of pizza. He decided that he was in love with half-eaten boxes of pizza.

~  _ 1 year 5 months ago ~ _

The third thing was a six pack of beer.

Harry was determined to win the tickets to band called “The Line.” He’d bought two arm’s length ribbons of raffle tickets at the spring fair and deposited them all into the basket for The Line tickets.

Harry loved The Line more than any other band on the planet, but unfortunately, so did many other people. The concert had sold out in less than a minute online, so Harry was resorting to more and more desperate measures to secure tickets as the concert drew nearer. Louis bought three arm’s length ticket ribbons when Harry’s back was turned and stuffed them into the box.

He reserved one ticket for himself and dropped it in the “Footie Fans” prize basket, which consisted of a football, a water bottle, socks, loads of crisps, and other masculine football things.

Louis let Harry drag him around to different carnival stands for the rest of the day, riding the carousel twice (“We’re  _ grown men _ , Harry,”) and sampling jams at the farmer’s market. Harry bought a bag of cookies from Fizzy and Lottie’s stand, and forced Louis to get his face painted. Liam burst into laughter when he saw the duo sporting pink and purple butterflies for faces.

“You are so whipped,” he told Louis.

Louis shrugged, watching Harry dance to the music being played on the community stage. He was the only one in the audience, cheering and clapping for the girl performing every time she finished a song, making her blush awkwardly.

“What a gem,” Liam said, chuckling.

Louis, however, was eyeing the exchange between Harry and the performer. The singer ( _ Nicole Snow! Community artist, _ proclaimed the sign on the stage) had stopped playing altogether and was having a conversation with Harry through the microphone.

“Shouldn’t you be singing?” said Louis loudly.

“Oh, what, I, um, yeah,” her voice was magnified through the speaker as she and Harry both turned their heads to look at him. She signaled the band and they struck up a tune again. Louis sidled up to Harry. “It’s almost six. They’re going to start the raffle draw. Want to head over?”

“I’m staying for the last song,” Harry said.

“Whatever,” said Louis, turning away. “Liam, let’s go.”

Halfway to the raffle table, Louis pretended he forgot his phone at another booth and let Liam go on while he walked back to the stage and watched from a distance. At the end of the song, “ _ Nicole Snow!” _ hopped off the stage and dashed over to Harry, a huge smile on her face. Louis rolled his eyes. They were talking about something or other that was making Harry smile and laugh.  _ OK, we get it, _ Louis thought.  _ Stop making a fucking fool of yourself. He isn’t interested. _ Louis chose that moment to strut over and grab Harry’s arm. “You’re going to miss it,” he said, impatient. “Let’s go.”

_ Nicole Snow! _ put her hand on Harry’s other arm. “I’ll see you later, right?” she said. She had an American accent.

Disgusting.

“Yeah, of course,” Harry drawled in his deep, slow voice. “Calm down, Lou, I’ll be right there. Don’t worry, we’re getting those tickets.”

 

They walked away from the raffle table with a heavy wicker basket stuffed with a jerseys, socks, beer, and a football and no tickets.

For some reason, it was Louis who was seething.

“Lou, it’s fine. It’s seriously fine. I’ll live. I mean, it would have been nice to see The Line live, but there’s always YouTube.” Louis stared straight ahead and said nothing. “Louis. Blue Lou. Lewis. Where’s that smile?”

Louis turned and gave him a deadpan stare.

“Hey, we won something! I’ve never won anything from a draw before,” Harry said. “We can watch the game tonight. This is perfect!”

Louis hummed.

“And you can teach me to play footie,” Harry went on, “I’ve always been shit at it. You know, when I was still in the sixth form, I used to go to your games with my sister? Her boyfriend at the time was on the team. I thought you were the best player.”

“Oh fuck off,” Louis said, finally letting a smile break his face. This was new information. “You did not.”

“I did,” Harry nodded. “I didn’t know your name back then. Or I would have cheered for you.”

Suddenly, an American sounding voice cut into the air. “Hey, Harry!”

“Nicole? Hi!” Harry said, smiling and turning.

“Um,” she said, looking over at Louis, whose smile had dropped. “Did you still want to get dinner? I know this great Italian place really close to here.”

Harry opened his mouth, grinning, but closed it and shot a glance over at Louis, who was twisting the basket in his hands.

“Uh, you know what?” Harry said, looking up at Nicole. “I’m going to head home with my mate. It’s been a long day. It was nice meeting you, though.”

“Yeah, ditto,” she said. Louis had to admit that Nicole was very pretty. She had smooth brown skin and large eyes, black hair that cascaded down to her back. “We’ll see each other though?”

“For sure,” said Harry.

Obviously, Harry was just being polite.

They watched her walk away and get in her car before the resumed walking.

“Hey.” Louis looked down at the basket. “Thanks for that.”

“For what?” said Harry.

“Never mind.”

Harry ruffled Louis’ hair. “You know I’d always choose you,” he said. “Who else is going to help you finish that six pack of beer?”

 

Louis ordered half a box of pepperoni pizza and ignored the strange look from the cashier. Harry snorted at him. “Why didn’t you just order a full one?”

“I just like pizza better this way,” Louis said, looking down at the box.

Harry tucked his arm around Louis’ shoulder as they walked to their building. The sidewalk was busier than usual. Harry held the box and the basket, and Louis leaned into him, discovering a pack of cigarettes. He lit one and brought it to his lips. Harry made a face.

“What?” asked Louis.

“I don’t like it when you smoke,” Harry said.

“Why not?” asked Louis, letting the cigarette burn between his fingers.

“Just don’t like it. My mom was asthmatic anyway. No one in my house smoked.”

“OK,” Louis said. He tossed the fresh cigarette into the curb and crushed it with his foot.

“You didn’t have to do that,” Harry said.

Louis shrugged. He didn’t need a smoke. All he needed was Harry’s steady arm around him and some pizza.

“Louis!  _ Louis!” _

They both spun around at the same time. A middle-aged woman was dashing through the street towards them. “Louis! Hey! Get back here!”

They both stared.

“Sorry?” said Louis.

“Lou!” Harry said suddenly, dropping the things in his hands. “Look!” he pointed to an animal that was scurrying towards them.

“What the -” Louis said, indignant at the lack of care for the pizza. He glanced at the thing on the road. “Oh, holy shit.”

“Louis!” Harry cried out, galloping towards the cat, which mewled at him, and began twining around his legs. “Oh my God!”

The woman finally caught up, panting. “I’m so sorry, dear, he’s an indoor cat, I don’t know what possessed him to go running out into the street like that - Oh be careful! He doesn’t like strangers!” Harry was scooping the cat up in his arms.

“Don’t worry, he knows us,” Harry laughed. “I named him!”

The woman looked confused. “Sorry?”

“We rescued him when he was a kitten,” Harry explained, rubbing the cat’s ears. “Brought him to the shelter. We used to go see him all the time after that.”

“Oh my goodness! What a coincidence!” said the woman. She offered her hand to Louis. “I’m Clara, by the way.”

“Louis,” said Louis. At her expression, he explained. “Harry named him after me. He thinks he’s funny.”

Harry turned at the mention of his name. “Oh yeah, I named kitten Louis after human Louis,” he explained. “Because they have the same eyes.”

“Blue,” said Louis, rolling his eyes. Clara clasped her hand to her heart. “Oh, how  _ adorable!” _ she sighed. “Well, isn’t this just like fate!”

Louis moved closer to Harry to pat kitten Louis, who purred at the touch. “Hey Lou,” he said quietly. “Missed you.”

“Well, you boys must come visit anytime,” she said. “I work at Clara’s Flower Shop, right down the street right there. Louis is almost always in.”

“That would be amazing, Clara,” said Harry, not taking his eyes off kitten Louis. “I’ll let you have him back now.”

He placed Louis the cat back in Clara’s arms and turned to Louis. “Want to go?”

“Yeah, I’m good,” answered Louis. “Wait. shit. Where’s our stuff?”

The basket was gone. All that was left was the pizza and beer.

“Oh my,” Clara said. “A few young men took that basket you were holding. I thought they were with you?”

“No, that’s not right,” Harry said, eyebrows drawing together. “Damn. Shit, Louis, I’m sorry. I should have held onto it.” He looked crestfallen.

“It’s OK, Haz. It was just a football,” Louis said.

“No, it’s my fault,” Harry said. “That was your stuff.”

“Harry,” Louis said, touching the taller man’s wrist. “It’s fine.”

Harry huffed and pushed his hair back. “I’m sorry, Lou.”

“So am I,” added Clara. “I’m so sorry I didn’t alert you. But I must head back to the shop now. Will you please come anytime?”

“Of course,” Louis said. Harry was still visibly bothered.

“You two are darling together, by the way,” said Clara. “Bye now.”

“Bye,” said Louis. He turned to Harry as she walked away. “Did she just -”

_ -Say we were a cute couple? _ was what he meant to say, but Harry was out of earshot, already walking away. Louis caught up to him quickly. “It’s fine, Harry. It doesn’t matter.”

“But the basket -”

“Harry. It’s not important. Do you know what’s awesome, though? We got to see kitten Louis again! And we still have pizza and beer.”   
“I guess so,” said Harry.

“Come on. It’s all good,” Louis said.

They spent the evening curled up together on the sofa, Harry’s curly head resting on Louis’ chest. The football game played on the TV in the background, but neither boy was paying much attention to it.

“I want to make you happy,” Harry said quietly. Louis could feel the vibrations of his voice.

“You do. So much.” Louis swore.

“We still got our six-pack,” Harry mumbled into Louis’ ribs.

“We do,” Louis said.

Harry snuffled a little and rolled completely on top of Louis. “Stop, you’re crushing me.”

“I’m tired, Lou.”

“OK,” Louis whispered, stroking Harry’s hair. “Mate,” he added as an afterthought.

“I love you, mate,” Harry mumbled. Louis grinned at the ceiling. “And Louis the kitten. I love Louis the kitten. We’ll go visit him all the time.”

“All the time,” Louis vowed.

 

Harry fell asleep on top of Louis, somehow.

They never opened the beer.

In the morning, Louis tucked in in a kitchen cupboard.


	4. bombs and consequences

He’d meant to tell Harry. He  _ had. _

He just...never did.

He’d been so nervous to come out to the other boy at first, when they met at Uni. A conflict in another room had shoved Harry and Louis into a dorm together, and for all he knew, Harry could be a homophobe.

In typical Louis fashion, Harry discovered this fact when walking in on him sucking another bloke off.

Harry had never seemed uncomfortable with the fact that Louis was gay, and never once asked if Louis was attracted to him, like most people did after they found out.

Louis didn’t even realize it at first. He had always felt indignance at not being at the center of attention, so when he got jealous of Harry’s girlfriends, he didn’t think much of it. He never liked a single one. He didn’t notice anything strange with the way he always wanted to be near Harry, to touch Harry. Not even when Harry brought a girl over and Louis could hear exactly what they were doing and was having trouble keeping it together, both in terms of jealousy and not touching himself, torn between listening closer or turning his headphones to full volume, almost painfully turned on.

Maybe it was because there had been so much buildup. Because he hadn’t been in a relationship for so long, he’d started to blur the lines of friendship and love. He couldn’t examine his feelings properly. Louis never liked to inspect his own feelings too much, especially when it came to Harry.

He told himself he just really liked kittens.

Half-eaten pizzas were just a quirk he possessed.

The six pack of beer was still unopened. Maybe they both had decided to regard it as a souvenir of a good night. When Harry still chose Louis over everything.

He remembers the day.

They still lived in their one bedroom apartment,  and Harry had insisted at the time to share the bedroom, because it made the rest of the house look more “open.” Louis had no problem with this.

For years, Harry has wanted to sing, to be an internationally known artist. He was always plucking out tunes on their electric piano and scribbling in a leather-bound notebook, like a true hipster. Louis would make fun of him for it. “At least I have ambitions,” Harry said.

 

Louis had been sick for a few days, snuffling and sneezing constantly. Harry would come home from work, put his bag down by the door, and begin making soup. He called it “Lou soup.”

“This will cure you,” Harry said every time he handed Louis a bowl.

One particular night, Harry slid into bed next to Louis, bearing a bowl of soup and a fresh box of tissues.

“Don’t come in here,” said Louis. “You’ll catch my cold.”

Harry smiled and wrapped his arms around Louis tightly. “But I miss you.”

Louis smiled up at him. “I live with you.”

“Still miss you,” Harry said into Louis’ hair. “Plus, look what I have.”

He placed a box of saltines into Louis’ lap. Louis laughed, which turned into a series of coughs. Harry clapped him on the back. “You OK?”

“Yeah,” Louis said. “Just remembering. That night on our road trip.”

“I remember.” Harry smiled. “I wrote a song about that trip,” Harry said, stroking Louis’ hair.

“You did?” He said. “I want a performance.”

“Maybe,” Harry said.

“ _ Now, _ ” Louis whined. “What if I die tomorrow and I never hear the song? Won’t you be guilty you never showed it to me?”

Harry grabbed a handful of saltine crackers and stuffed them into Louis’ protesting mouth. “Eat these. They’ll heal you.”

“You fucker,” Louis laughed, rebutting with by crushing some over Harry’s curls.

Harry shook them out of his hair and tackled Louis, pinning the smaller man’s shoulders to the mattress. 

Louis sneezed. Harry yelled and jumped off.

They stared at one another for a moment. Then, in unison, they burst into laughter. Harry climbed back into bed, dipped a cracker into the Lou soup, and tossed it into his mouth. Louis cuddled up to his chest and looked up at him.

Harry was a mess. He was sweaty, tired from work, and crumbs dripped from his hair and were sprinkled across his face. His shirt was rumpled and had a soup stain on the front, and he looked utterly disheveled. Happy.

There was something warm in his stomach that felt different from the soup, tingling, that spread from his core, twisting through this bones and flooding him to the tips of his fingers. He fed Harry another cracker, brushing the other boy’s pink, plush lips with his fingers. And he wanted. Louis felt a desperate want infesting him as he curled his fingers into the blanket, unfurled them, and Louis fell in love.

 

The next day Louis’ cold was gone.

***

It was after Louis’ confession to Niall. Louis showed up at Niall and Liam’s door.

“I know I’m not the one to lecture about coping mechanisms,” Niall commented mildly as he let Louis in, “But I’m pretty sure this is unhealthy.”

“First of all,  _ fuck you,” _ slurred Louis angrily.

Liam looked up from the couch. “What’s up, Louis?”

“I need a drink,” demanded Louis.

“Oh, no way,” said Liam. “I think you’ve had enough. I don’t even want to know how you managed to get here.”

“It’s called a taxi, fuckwad,” said Louis with great difficulty. “Distract me, Liam.”

“Are you running away from your problems again?” Liam asked. “You can’t just drink to -”

“Can you  _ shut up, _ Li.” Louis’ voice wavered and broke, and the tears came.

“Oh, fuck,” said Niall, the sensitive guy he was.

Louis chose a spot on the floor to curl up on, shaking with angry tears. Liam moved over to him quickly. “Lou, what’s wrong?”

“ _ Shit,” _ Louis croaked. “Everything is  _ shit.” _

“Why?”

“Because -”

Because Harry had been secretly dating Nicole for weeks and he never told Louis and Louis never realized, he never found out and did this mean that Louis was blind? And now he dropped these bombs on Louis, the  _ nuclear fucking weapons _ that burrowed into his organs and made him feel like he was being sliced open, and everything was shit, shit -

_ “He’s probably in love with her. He’s in love with her and she loves him back but she doesn’t fucking deserve it, but she’s going to have his babies anyway and Harry will forget about me and we’ll never talk again and I’ll still be in a shitty apartment while he goes on to have shitloads of money with fucking saltines and beer and half-pizzas and I’ll remember everything and he’ll forget about me anyway and I hate it and I wish he were gay I wish I wasn’t in love with him, I don’t even fucking know if I’m in love with him, or if we’re just best mates, I’m so fucked up, why would he choose me anyway? I’m needy, I smoke, I’m poor, I’m stupid, and I always get drunk, like you said, I get drunk and don’t face my problems, I’m so fucked up -” _

He said none of this aloud.

“Louis.” Niall said, dropping to his knees on the floor and shaking him. “Tell me what happened.”

“I’m so pathetic,” Louis slurred.

“No, Lou.”

“He’s in love with someone else.”

Louis heard Niall’s intake of breath as he sat back on his heels.

“What is he talking about?” said Liam quietly.

“Who else?” whispered Niall. “Harry.”

 

Niall and Liam dedicated that night to motivate-Louis-time. It took a lot of talking on Niall’s part, explaining to Liam what the predicament was. Niall said he was sure that Harry wasn’t in love with Nicole. It had only been a couple of weeks. Liam claimed that he would bet fifty pounds the two would break up by the end of the month.

What Louis didn’t understand was how he  _ never knew. _ Harry had told him in a passing comment over breakfast that morning, which led to Louis discovering that Harry had been seeing the girl for weeks. What Louis thought had been late work days, or brunches with his hipster friends, must have actually been dates. Louis didn’t understand why Harry hadn’t told him. It was crushing.

Somehow, Niall and Liam managed to pick up enough bits of Louis’ broken spirit to push him back into living life, with the assurance that he would always have a bigger role in Harry’s life than Nicole ever would.

 

Two weeks later Harry dropped another bomb.

It felt like a fucking world war.

“Nicole and I were thinking of living together.”

_ Nicole and I are thinking of living together. Nicole and I are thinking of living together. Nicole and I are thinking of living together. Nicole and I are thinking of living together. Nicole and I are thinking of living together. Nicole and I are thin _

 

Louis was tired of living in a minefield. Every passing day was like setting off another explosive, ripping off his limbs one by one. So he left.

 

“If I’ve already been hurt this much, what’s the point of hanging on?” he asked Niall.

Niall was asleep. Asleep Niall gave much better advice than conscious Niall, anyway.

There was a ball of discomfort festering inside of Louis, no matter how hard he distracted himself. At work, he got a promotion because of how much he had started to get done, so when Harry showed up every so often to catch up, Louis would call that he was busy from the other room, typing frantically on the keyboard. Once or twice Nicole came over. Those days Louis had important business meetings.

It was easier to break your own heart than be at the mercy of another.

Harry called every night, at first. Louis picked up only if he was high. One perk of living with Niall was that he liked weed almost as much as Louis did.

The frequency of Harry’s phone calls died down, fizzling out like a match dropped in water. Louis told himself he didn’t care.

He made it a mission for himself to fall in love with someone new. Someone with no ties to his history, someone who hated cats.

“Why are you an Grindr?” asked Liam one day.

“Why are  _ you _ on Grindr?” said Louis.

Liam turned red and sputtered. “Uh - I -”

Louis laughed. “I’d never pin you for the online dating type,”

“I’d never think  _ you  _ were one,” Liam retorted. “You always said you hated dating apps.”

“Things change,” Louis shrugged. Something like pity flashed briefly over Liam’s face, but it was gone quickly.

It took him a month before he went on a date. It wasn’t that he hadn’t gotten any matches (he got a few messages at least every week), it was the fact that it felt like betrayal.

“You aren’t betraying anyone,” promised Liam. “You and Harry never dated.”

It didn’t make Louis feel any better.

The first date was with a guy that Louis instantly hated, but he knew why he had chose him. Tall, thoughtful, into music and art. Louis didn’t meet him again.

“You look a bit different from your picture,” said the second one. Louis hadn’t bothered to remember his name.

“Oh, I guess,” Louis said, rubbing his beard, which he was letting grow in. HIs hair was getting longer, too.

The picture in question had been taken a year ago, by Harry, in the spring. His eyes were bright, laughing at the camera. Before bed that night, Louis deleted the picture.

 

He felt horrible for his dates. Each one was subject to a comparison to Harry. In truth, no one could compare.

Living with Liam had pushed Louis into a closer relationship with him. He’d always been closer to Niall, regarding Liam as a little bit too innocent and stuck up, not having to work as hard as Louis or Harry because his father owned a huge advertising company.  However, their aligning work schedules and the new living situation had brought them almost uncomfortably closer together. Liam had also unofficially become Louis’ guidance counselor.

“I think you’re looking at each of these blokes and thinking about Harry,” Liam said as Louis tapped away on his keyboard. “It’s unfair to our dates, and yourself. You need to stop wanting them to be like Harry. Only Harry will ever be Harry. Don’t go in with these unrealistic expectations.”

Liam, unlike Niall, who held resolutely onto his beliefs, seemed to have given up on the hope that Harry would break up with Nicole. He didn’t say it aloud, but Louis could tell by the way he was turning Louis away from the other man and encouraging him to go on dates.

“I don’t think I want to date at all anymore,” Louis said, stubbing out a cigarette in the ashtray. “It’s not worth it.”

He had managed to completely avoid Harry for a week. 

The apartment had started to smell like smoke.

 

Eat. Work. Smoke. Drink. Sleep.

That was Louis’ cycle.

He didn’t go clubbing anymore, declined invitations to go out. His idea of a good night was chainsmoking on the balcony, naked but for a pair of sweatpants, or getting drunk or high by himself on the sofa while watching shitty TV.

One morning, he realized he could count his ribs. He sat on the toilet and cried before dressing for work.

“You were too reliant on Harry for your happiness,” suggested Liam. “You’re strong, Louis. There are other things that are going to make you feel happy.”

Louis wanted to punch him in the face.

Somehow, Niall was worse.

“They’re going to break up, I know it,” Niall said, optimistic as ever. “We just gotta let it run its course.”

Louis sighed and put his cigarette to his lips.

“You’re a sexy, young, smart, man, Louis Tomlinson,” Niall said. “You should get the chance to have some fun. Date a few new people. You don’t have to settle down with your soul mate just yet.”

Louis  _ really _ wanted to punch Niall in the face

When Louis finally agreed to a date, it had mostly been as a joke.

Leo was the most masculine, frat-style guy Louis had ever set his eyes on. As Niall put it, if you Googled “white man”, his picture would probably shown up. His profile pictures were all shirtless, either flexing, partying, or holding up a giant fish he’d apparently caught.

The first message Louis had received from him was “hey, hot stuff. ;)”

Niall nearly died from laughter when Louis showed him. “Christ, you have to text him back,” he said.

_ God knows I need a laugh, _ thought Louis.

Somehow, Louis managed to get himself roped into a date.

Niall dropped him off at the bar, snorting from laughter. “Have fun with  _ Leo,” _ he said, pushing Louis out. “Get that fuckboy cock.”

Louis rolled his eyes and walked out.

Leo was waiting for him at the bar, wearing a blue button-up and cargo shorts. A pair of sunglasses were perched on his head.

It was winter.

Louis, in comparison, wore a linty jumper, and hadn’t bothered to clean himself up in any way. His chin and head alike were scruffy and mussed - he hadn’t shaved or gotten a trim in weeks.

Leo lit up when Louis approached him. “Hey! Lewis, right?”

Leo was American. Of course.

“It’s Louis, actually,” he answered.

“You look great,” Leo said. “Sit down. Can I buy you a drink?”

Well. Louis couldn’t say no to that.

Leo was taller than Louis by quite a bit, perhaps even taller than Harry, He was a pale blonde with hazel eyes, and his face was rectangular and completely symmetrical. As it turned out, he was actually Canadian, from a place called Maple Ridge, somewhere in BC, and had just graduated from the University of British Columbia, studying marine biology.

“So if you’re Canadian, what brings you here?” asked Louis.

“Travel,” Leo shrugged. “I’ve always wanted to visit the UK.”

Leo turned out to be a lot smarter and more considerate than Louis had anticipated. Recalling a story from his childhood of breaking a neighbor’s window, he actually got Louis to laugh.

Leaving the date, Louis realize this was the first time he hadn’t thought about Harry in weeks.

Before he left, Louis somehow found himself agreeing to another date.

Because why the fuck not.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please talk to me in the comments!! Let me know your feelings! Thoughts! Emotions!


	5. false emergencies

Neither Liam or Niall supported Louis’ decision to come to the party. But he had gone anyway. Things had been moving along well enough with Leo, and Louis was certain he was getting over Harry.

 

“You call this space, Louis?” Harry’s words were like a dagger to the chest.

Louis seriously wanted to die.

 

When Louis woke up the next morning, his first order of business was to shuffle to the bathroom and throw up. Seeing Harry equaled getting sick. This seemed to be a pattern.

It felt like his emotions had been rewound to five months back, and all the progress he’d made in the last few weeks had left through the door with with Harry.

 

By afternoon, he was feeling better -  _ physically. _ The thought of having to somehow make it through the day still made him want to choke. Niall and Liam had stayed over at Harry’s flat, so no one else was in the house.

What better way to spend an evening than to pop open another one of Liam’s bottles?

He was tipsy by five o’clock.

Louis was beginning to wonder if he had a drinking problem.

He texted Leo.

_ Come over. _

_ Address? _ Came the reply, almost instantly.

Louis gave it to him.

Louis went to the bathroom and tried to make himself look more presentable - brushed the shitty breath from his mouth, changed his shirt. But in all honesty, he didn’t really care. If someone didn’t distract him quick, he was probably going to do something stupid. Like call Harry.

Leo arrived in another button-up, black this time, bearing a pie. Louis, as a gay man, could appreciate how good he looked, objectively, but he had to force himself to walk up to the taller man and kiss him harshly.

Leo stumbled back, startled, but not offended by the touch. It was the first time Louis had offered Leo any sort of affection. Leo had attempted to kiss Louis many occasions before, but Louis had politely rejected him each time.  Now, Louis grabbed his arm and pulled him back, closer. “Come here.”

Leo put the pie on the shoe rack, following Louis’ frantic lead. “Hey,” he said, kissing him back. Louis felt hollow. “What’s up?”

Louis shook his head and ran his hands down Leo’s chest, grabbing at his skin like he was searching for a reason. Louis led him, walking backwards, to the bedroom.

“Are you drunk, Louis?”, Leo said as Louis pulled him through the door. The bed groaned as Louid forced the taller man down onto it.

“Why do people say that all the time,” Louis said, exasperated. “Shut up.”

“Alright,” Leo said.

Louis frantically unbuttoned Leo’s shirt, ripping it off his shoulders. “Come  _ here, _ ” he demanded.

“God, you’re so hot,” Mumbled Leo, pressing his lips onto Louis’. Louis’ stomach churned.

Looking up, Leo’s hair looked wrecked, his chest was heaving, skin pale, unmarked, and smooth. Louis felt trapped, lying underneath him. Undressed, Louis could see for the first time how  _ big _ Leo was, in the least sexual way possible. He just - had a large torso. For a hot second. Louis imagined long brown hair, tattoos, and pink lips. Guilt flooded Louis as he looked up into Leo’s dilated pupils.

“Fuck me,” he said.

Leo looked startled. “Are you serious?”

“Dead serious,” Louis begged, wrapping his legs around Leo’s middle. “Just. Please.”

“But you’ve been drinking,” Leo said quickly, “I don’t want to take advantage -”

“I’ve wanted to. For a long time.” Louis lied through gritted teeth.

“Fuck, OK,” said Leo, unbuckling his belt.

Louis stared up at the ceiling and prayed that he was drunk enough to make this happen.

***

Louis woke up the next morning, trapped uncomfortably under a heavy body. He felt sore and imprisoned underneath the weight.

This had been a huge mistake.

Louis untangled himself as carefully as he could and picked up last night’s clothes from the floor, walking gingerly to the bathroom. His arse ached.

Fuck.

It had been the first time he’d had sex in a year. And it felt awfully like cheating.

He was disgusting. He was a disgusting person whose impetuousness was taking over his life.

After pissing, Louis surveyed himself briefly in the mirror. His hair was tousled, he was naked, his tattoo against his collarbone prominent and his body thin, unappealing. He looked like he’d just been fucked. He felt raw, disposable, contemptible, as if someone had torn him open in the night and removed everything, just leaving his skeleton and frame. With all his organs gone, there was no anger or dysphoria that he could muster up inside him. Anesthetized. He looked like shit.

Jesus Christ.

Louis dressed.

Leo was up when he went in the kitchen.”Oh,” said Louis.

“Hey babe,” said Leo, scratching his back. He’d put his pants back on, thank God.

“Uh, hi.” Louis couldn’t look the other man in the eye. He walk to this sink and filled the kettle with water, then placed it on the stovetop. Leo moved forward and wrapped his arms around Louis’ waist, tucking his chin into Louis’ shoulder. “Last night was amazing.”

“Yeah?” Louis mustered. His legs were like stone.

At that moment, Niall and Liam walked in, talking loudly. They stopped when they saw Louis with Leo.

“What’s this, Lou?” asked Niall, his voice sounding irregular.

“Um, I.” Louis gently removed Leo’s hands from his waist, his face reddening. “Uh -”

“I’m Leo,” Leo introduced himself charmingly, reaching out to Niall for his hand to shake. Niall took it somewhat reluctantly, looking confused. “Um. And you are…?”

“Niall,” he replied, not looking at Leo, who looked awkward and turned to Liam. “Hi?”

“Liam,” the man answered, shaking his hand.

“Sorry I’m so underdressed,” Leo said, an attempt at humor. “That would be Louis’ fault.”

Louis stared doggedly at the kettle, willing it to boil faster.

“Ah.” said Liam.

There was silence.

“Well, I think I’m going to go then,” Leo said, clapping his hands together and looking discomposed. “It was nice to meet you guys.”

Louis didn’t react when Leo kissed his cheek.

 

After the Canadian had dressed and closed the door behind him, Niall spoke up. “What the fuck was that?”

“Nothing,” Louis grumbled, pouring himself some tea.

“Did you let him fuck you?”

Louis didn’t say anything. At his defeated stance, Niall softened. “Are you OK? Was he an asshole?”

“No.” Louis answered.

The problem wasn’t that Leo was an asshole. The problem was that Leo was too good. That Leo wasn’t Harry.

“Well, I’m glad to see you’re moving on,” Liam said, thick-headed as ever.

 

Louis didn’t know how he was supposed to end things with Leo. He didn’t even know if he wanted to. Leo had invited him to meet a few of his friends for lunch.

“The truth is, I don’t know a lot of them that well,” he said. “I’m only really close to this guy, Greg. But they’re all nice guys.”

“Don’t go,” said Niall.

“Do it,” advised Liam.

Louis went.

“Hey, guys.” Leo waved at the table of men.“This is Louis. Louis, this is everyone.”

“Louis?” came a familiar voice. It was Nick.

Louis was immediately filled with contempt. “Oh. Nick.”

“You two know each other?” Leo said, pleased.

“Kind of,” Louis shrugged.

He was sat next to Leo, looking down the menu. Everything looked quite good. He settled on a tasty looking pasta dish. Leo wanted to share a pizza. Louis declined.

“Hey guys, sorry I’m late, I had a -”

And Louis guessed that he must had really pissed off Satan or something, because it was Harry who was pulling out a chair, looking disheveled. Harry had a sharp black trench coat pulled around him, and his hair was pulled up into a miniature bun of brown hair. HIs eyes looked darker than usual, and the bags under his eyes were considerably deeper than Louis had remembered them being. Even with such a tired expression, Harry still exuded a handsome warmth.

They made eye contact at the same time.

Fuck.

“Louis, this is Harry,” Leo said, oblivious. “Harry, this is my boyfriend, Louis.”

“Hello,” Harry said stiffly, ringed hand gripping the chair tightly. He made no move to sit down.

“Hi, Harry.” Louis managed to say.

The rest of the table continued chattering, not a care in the world. For some reason, the globe hadn’t stopped spinning yet. But Louis had stopped breathing.

“How are you, Lou?” said Harry, taking the seat across from him.

Somehow that was worse than being ignored. Louis could  _ feel _ the confusion and hurt in Harry’s voice, dripping through the few feet of air between them, and Louis wished for a split second that he possessed telepathy so that he could will Leo’s arm off his shoulders.

“Do you two know each other?” said Leo, pleased.

Louis looked up quickly, then back down at his plate. Harry was staring openly at him.

“Yeah. We did.” Harry said.

We  _ did. _

Louis opened his phone in his lap as discreetly as he could.  _ Call me right now, _ he texted Niall.  _ Emergency. _ Almost immediately, his phone began ringing.

He hadn’t thought this through. One of Harry’s favourite songs was his ringtone, and both their heads snapped up.

“I need to get this,” Louis said robotically to Leo. “Sorry.”

“Yeah, no problem,” the other man answered.

Louis speed-walked to the bathroom, accepting the call and holding his phone to his ear.

“What’s up?” asked Niall from the other end. There was a crunching sound. He was eating crisps.

“Harry’s here,” Louis said.

“I’ll come pick you up,” Niall said, then hung up.

God bless Niall.

Louis made his way back to the table and dropped his mouth to Leo’s ear. “I have to go, sorry,” he said. “My friend’s having an emergency.”

“Oh no, I hope he’ll be OK,” Leo said, looking up with concern. Louis felt a pang in his chest. The worst part of being with Leo was how genuinely  _ good _ he was. Louis wanted desperately to return his feelings.

He could feel Harry’s eyes burning into him from the other side of the table.

“Wait. I want a kiss before you go,” Leo said. Louis turned red.

He dropped a quick peck to Leo’s cheek, but the blond man caught his chin and pulled him into a long, uncomfortable kiss. Louis drew back like he’d been stung as soon as Leo let go and had to keep himself from running to the door.

“Let your friend know I hope everything’s OK,” Leo called out after him. Louis didn’t turn around.

It was raining.

Louis stood, shivering, in the middle of the parking lot. The restaurant was a good half hour away from Niall and Liam’s place, but waiting out in the rain alone was better than facing Harry.

He fished out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter from within his pockets. He shook one out and placed it between his teeth. It took him five tries to make the lighter come alive; his hands were trembling. For some reason, he didn’t think it was because of the cold.

The first drag of the cigarette settled his insides an infinitesimal amount. He exhaled a breath of smoke, rubbing his hands up and down his bare arms, an attempt at creating an illusion of warmth.

The restaurant door opened. Louis turned his head to see Harry striding out, his head whipping around from left to right. Before Louis could form an escape, Harry had caught sight of him.

“Lou,” he breathed, rain trickling down his forehead. Louis forced himself to drag his eyes away from the brightness of Harry’s lips against his pale skin. “Here,” Harry said quickly, shedding his coat and stepping closer to wrap it around Louis’ shoulders.

“Harry, that’s really -” Louis made the mistake of looking up into Harry’s face.

This close, it was even worse. Drops of wetness were tickling Harry’s lashes, and his eyes were red-rimmed and tired looking. Stubble had appeared in patches under and above his lips, which looked so soft and slightly chapped. A wayward curl had escaped from the bun and was dangling down the left side of his cheek. Harry’s eyebrows were drawn together tightly, a deep crease between them. Louis wanted so badly to reach up and smooth it out.

“It’s cold out here,” interrupted Harry.

Louis closed his eyes and tried to inhale the scent of the coat, of Harry, trying to ingrain it somewhere deep within him, bottle it, keep it forever.

“Do you need a ride?” Harry asked. Louis noticed he’d turned his head away from the smoke, obviously doing his best not to cough.

“Um - Niall’s coming,” Louis said, taking an obnoxious drag and feigning nonchalance. He never imagined that pretending not to care would be as hard as this.

“Is everything good? Your, uh, boyfriend said it was an emergency…” After the word  _ boyfriend, _ Harry’s voice had trailed off.

“Something, um, happened,” said Louis feebly.

“Is it...private?”

“Yeah private,” agreed Louis instantly, grabbing the excuse not to have to go into detail about a Niall’s fake emergency.

Before now, nothing had ever been secret between the two of them. Suddenly, hurdles were building themselves every which way and Louis wasn’t in the mood to try jumping any of them.

“Louis,” Harry said, rubbing his ear. He paused.

Louis smoked.

“Come visit sometime, yeah?” Harry said.

Louis dared to look at him. Harry had never seemed so out of his element.

“OK,” Louis said.

Harry let out a breath it appeared he’d been holding. “How about this wee-”

“When I have time,” Louis interrupted.

Harry’s shoulders slipped forward a little, and Louis had to restrain himself from hurling himself into Harry’s arms. He was being such an  _ asshole. _ Louis was the dirt on the ground, the shittiest being on earth. Louis was the worst, why did he have to go falling in love with his best friend,  _ why - _

“I don’t - I don’t - Here, have this back,” Louis said, removing the coat and shoving it back at the taller man, forcing his voice not to break. His eyes had begun to sting, and his cigarette was burning out.

“Oh,” said Harry.

There was a pregnant pause.

“So how did you and Leo meet?”

Louis sighed. He had nothing to hide, he told himself.

“Grindr,” he said, dropping the stub to the ground and crushing it with his foot. He immediately lit another.

“I thought you hated online dating.”

Louis shrugged.

“You two seem...Good together.”

“Thanks.”

“He’s American?”

“Canadian.”

“He’s. Cute.”

_ Nothing like you. _ “Yeah.”

“Louis, is it just me, or is this is the most awkward conversation we’ve ever had? Even when we’re talking about sex, it’s never this horrible. This is a really bad conversation.”

Louis looked down, tears threatening him. “I’m -”

“I’m trying, Lou. I’m really fucking trying,” said Harry, becoming more agitated, running his hands over his hair. “I’m sorry, Lou. I’m -” He wiped the back of his hand over his face.

Louis didn’t know how his tears had managed to start falling so fast.

“Fuck, Lou,” Harry said, pulling Louis into an embrace. Louis turned his face into his shoulder, cigarette dropping to the concrete. “When did we go to shit?”

“I’m sorry, Harry,” Louis hiccupped.

“I miss you,” Harry said. “I miss you more than anything.”

“I’m sorry,” Louis repeated.  _ I’m in love with you. I’m in love with you. I can’t hurt you. I’m in love with you. _

“Please come home,” Harry whispered into his hair.

Louis said nothing.

“Please,” Harry begged. “I’m going crazy. I’m  _ trying. _ I’m  _ fucking trying. _ ” Harry’s voice broke.

“Say something,” he whispered, cupping Louis’ jaw and looking down at him. Harry’s other hand came up to wipe at the tear staining Louis’ cheeks.

_ Kiss me. _

A car pulled up to the front of the restaurant, and Harry tore his gaze away. Louis broke a little.

It was Niall, waving Louis over.

“You better go,” Harry said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I won't be updating until after the 14th because I'll be on holiday! Please let me know what you think of the fic so far... :)


	6. pooling puddles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Niall's right in the most wrong of ways.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ahh sorry it's been so long! writing's been slow, but we'll get there.

Niall veered left.

“Where’re you going?” asked Louis. “The house is back the other way.”

Niall didn’t respond.

Louis let the silence play for a minute longer before speaking up again. “Niall, where are you going?”

The blond boy slammed the brake, stopping the car in the middle of the road. “What the fuck are you doing?” Louis said.

“What the fuck are  _ you _ doing, Lou?”

“You can’t just stop in the middle of the road, you bastard! What are you -”

“It’s deserted, it’s fine!”

“It’s  _ not _ fine, Niall -”

“SHUT UP, LOU!”

Louis closed his mouth.

“Harry deserves -” NIall seemed to be fighting with himself, He shook his head and fish mouthed a few times before finishing his sentence. “Harry deserves an explanation.”

“What?” Louis said incredulously.

“No, Lou, think about it. It’s not Harry’s fault. Harry has no idea what’s going on and he’s probably even more fucked up than you are about this situation because he has no idea what’s wrong. And you just dropped out of his life like he meant nothing to you, and you expect him to -”

“So it’s  _ my _ fault that I don’t want to get rejected by him? It’s not like I can  _ turn off _ my feelings for -”

“Are you kidding me, Tommo? You haven’t even given him a  _ chance _ ! You’re acting like you’re the only victim here and meanwhile Harry probably thinks he did something shitty to piss off his best friend and -”

“A _chance?_ _You think there’s a chance?_ He’s straight, for fuck’s sake! You think that I should stick around? I feel like I’m being punched in the face whenever I’m around him because I _know_ that he’ll never -”

“Do you really even  _ love _ him, Lou?”

Louis stared at Niall in shock. Niall turned red and started to backtrack. “I mean - what I meant is -”

Louis turned, so that Niall wouldn’t see the angry tears that had begun falling. He grasped door handle and shoved it open.

“Louis, don’t go -”

Louis was going, all right. He stomped away in the rain, not caring that it would probably take him over an hour to get home. He couldn’t believe the things Niall had dared to say.

“Louis!” Niall scrambled out of the car, too. “What I mean is, if you love him so much, why the fuck are you hurting him?”

Every word was like a punch in the throat. “What are you talking about?”

“You left him. You left him first. Without a fucking word.”

“I was living in a fucking warzone, Niall. Living with him and knowing he was in love with someone else made me want to die.” Louis didn’t even feel his clothes beginning to stick to his back. All that mattered was hurling his words at Niall as hard as he could.

“How do you think he felt when you left and cut all ties with him? How fucked that made him feel? You’re his best fucking friend.” Niall’s quiff had started drooping from the rain.

“Can you  _ fuck off, _ Niall,” Louis shouted across the car, his voice breaking.

“All I’m saying is Harry doesn’t know why his best friend left him, he probably thinks he messed up, when he didn’t do any fucking thing.”

“So what you’re saying is that I fucked up, are you? I already fucking knew that.”

“You’re acting crazy, Tommo.  _ You _ left  _ him _ so that he wouldn’t hurt  _ you _ and now both of you are hurting.”

“Then it’s so stupid, why did you let me leave?”

“I don’t know! I thought you guys would figure it out sooner!”

“Tell me  _ please, _ Niall. Is there even a chance he would feel the same.” Louis was sarcastic.

“If there is, you’re not even letting it happen!”

“Because there isn’t!”

Niall’s eyes were wild. “Then why are you acting like he broke your heart?”

“I’m so confused,” Louis said. “What are we even talking about?”

“Harry deserves to know,” Niall said, every word punching out if his lungs like he was reaching inside himself and forcing his mouth to put them into the air. “He deserves to know why he’s being treated like shit.”

“You expect me to just waltz up to him and tell him I’ve been in love with his ugly ass for -”

“If you don’t, I will.”

Louis’ jaw dropped.

“Niall, you can’t.”

“I will.”

“ _ No, _ Niall.”

Niall sighed, dropping the act. “Fine. I won't, because it’s your shit to deal with. But you have to.”

“I don’t.”

“You don’t get that Harry doesn’t understand why his best friend left him. It’s not his fault. It doesn’t make any sense that you’re leaving him.”

The car stood between them, engine still rumbling, like an earthquake was about to erupt. Niall had a desperately wild look in his eyes, a cross between a deer trapped in headlights and a lion about to deliver a fatal blow. Rain pattered down onto the hood of the car, and Louis was distantly aware that the interior must be getting soaked.

“I'm so in love with him.” his fingers had begun pruning.

“Then act like it,” Niall pleaded. Pleaded.

“How?”

Louis was a child, asking advice from a man.

“That's for you to figure out, Louis,” said Niall, suddenly looking tired. “Let's go.”

The seats had puddles.


End file.
